


Leave a Light in the Window for Me

by Shadeling



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Drabble Collection, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-22
Updated: 2017-11-03
Packaged: 2019-01-21 06:30:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12451559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadeling/pseuds/Shadeling
Summary: A collection of drabbles focusing on Ithyra, the magician's apprentice, and Julian, the murderous (former) plague doctor and how their relationship develops.





	1. Third Time's the Charm

**Author's Note:**

> Julian breaks into the magician's house again. It doesn't go well.
> 
> Or does it?

_Bad luck, bad luck._

Julian cursed to himself as he darted around the corner. The streets were dark, with not even a sliver of moonlight to light the way. That wasn’t a problem real for Julian; he could find his way through the winding back alleys of Vesuvia blind-folded. But there was only one of him, and tonight, there were many of them.

_The Countess must be in a fine mood today if the guards are this enthusiastic._ The guards had started patrolling constantly, chasing down every whisper of the murderous Doctor Devorak with an almost admirable amount of determination.

Good thing he had plenty of practice evading them, else he might be in real trouble.

He dodged around another corner, then another. He couldn’t suppress a wild grin as he jumped over a disheveled fence. The wood groaned under his weight but held together. He ducked into another alley and paused.

The clatter of heavy boots on cobbled stone was faint now. Maybe he lost them.   But then again, maybe not.

If he were in the lower city, he could have popped into Mazelinka’s house for an hour or so. As it was, he’d stumbled into one of the nicer neighborhoods. No friendly faces up here and the buildings were further apart so he’d have a harder time blending into the shadows.

Julian chewed his lip in thought. The marketplace was nearby, maybe he could find a warehouse or storeroom to hide in. No, that wouldn’t work. The market was far too open and the guards would always be nearby. As far as he knew, there weren’t any houses that’d been abandoned during the plague. Where to go, then?

He scratched his head in thought, then hissed in pain. Gods, he’d forgotten about that nasty little bruise. He gingerly brushed his fingers over the spot again, probing at it. Asra’s apprentice was a feisty one, with more guts than he’d expected.

_Ithyra_. He rolled the name around in his head, savoring the sound of it. Such an lovely name.

Then he brightened. _That_ house was certainly empty, considering that Ithyra had been summoned to the palace indefinitely and Asra...well, Julian suspected that not even Ithyra knew where he’d gone. Not that she’d tell him anyway. He ignored the way his chest tightened at the thought of Asra. The shop would be as good a place as any to bunker down for an hour or two. Besides, he didn’t even have to break in. That brought a grin to his face as he caressed the key in his pocket. It seemed like a shame not to use it.

It only took Julian minutes to reach the back of the magic shop. He sneered a bit as he unlocked the door. _How do you like that, Asra?_ There was a small click as the lock turned. As Julian pushed the door open, he felt a faint tingling sensation even through his gloves. Magic.

Julian hesitated for just a moment, then resolutely stepped into the darkened shop. When he wasn’t immediately flung from the threshold or set aflame by an angry protective ward, he relaxed and shut the door behind him. He relocked it for good measure.

As expected, the shop was dark and silent. Julian moved into the shop. The familiar smell of herbs and incense filled his nose. There was only a faint bit of light streaming through the windows, so the normally colorful room was bathed in dark blue shadows. His chest ached. Julian angrily pushed the feeling away. He glared at the row of jars on the shelf behind the counter. He couldn’t make out any of the labels in this lighting, but most of them looked like they held some kind of earthy material or dried herbs. Laying on the counter was what looked like a satchel of some kind. Perhaps left behind by Asra or his apprentice. Curiosity piqued, he stepped towards the counter.

The floorboard creaked under his foot and he bit back a curse. Then he chided himself. No one was home after all. Still, he couldn’t stop his flinch when his next step creaked just as ominously.

Then there was another creak. He hadn’t moved.

Julian spun around and seized a shadow that had seemingly solidified behind him. Something dropped to the ground at their feet and he kicked it aside. _I suppose I’m not the only one who knows the owners aren’t home_.

The burglar yelped as he slammed them against the nearest wall, then snarled as they lashed out. Julian nimbly avoided an angry kick aimed at his groin, but didn’t manage to dodge a hard fist that buried itself into his gut. It hurt but it didn’t quite knock the wind out of him. Julian growled.

“Oh no, you don’t.” He slammed them into the wall again. As the stranger reared back to punch him again, he caught their wrist and pinned it to the wall. He heard a sharp inhale and he quickly clapped his hand over their mouth. “Ah, ah, ah. Can’t have any of that, can we?” There wasn’t a chance in hell that the guards would care about a burglar if they found the both of them here.

A growl vibrated his leather glove as they struggled furiously. “Let me tell you, you picked the wrong house, friend.” He wondered if Ithyra would be impressed that he’d kept her stock from being stolen. Probably not.

There was a sudden clatter outside the shop, followed by a loud yowl. Julian startled and his head twisted around towards the window.   He realized a bit too late that that was a mistake.

The stranger twisted suddenly and broke their wrist free from Julian’s grip. He swore, but before he could grab them again, the smell of ozone and a crackling sound filled the air. The punch hit him right in the solar plexus. Pain exploded through his chest and his knees buckled underneath him. He managed to grab ahold on the stranger’s shoulders to keep himself up. They groaned as they stumbled under his weight.

“Ah, you do have guts,” Julian hissed. Strangely, the stranger paused, but Julian was never one to let someone get away with their mistakes. Julian gritted his teeth, tightened his grip and let himself completely collapse.   The stranger struggled to hold themselves up. All it took was a hard tug to bring them collapsing on top of him. He rolled and trapped them underneath him with a laugh. He expected another struggle, but instead, the stranger said in a very familiar, very angry voice:

“Julian Devorak, if you don’t get off of me this instant, I’m going to hex your balls off.”

Julian blinked and squinted. That couldn’t be right. “Ithyra?”

An annoyed sigh rattled through the chest underneath him. He heard them snap their fingers and a small burst of light flew above them and lit up the space around them.

Sure enough, Julian was sitting on top of a black-haired woman with indignant silver eyes, hands pinned to the floor. “Ithyra! Fancy seeing you here. In your house. What an incredible coincidence.”

Ithyra bared her teeth at him and a blue energy crackled around her fingers threateningly. “Get. Off.”

“Oh, right. Sorry,” he hopped up and offered her a hand. Ithyra glared at him for a moment, and Julian momentarily worried that she might just hex him anyway, then the blue sparks faded and she took his hand. He pulled her up easily. She settled on her feet, scowling. Then she punched his arm, hard.

“Ow!” He rubbed his arm with a pout, then acknowledged “Alright, I deserved that.”

“You think? Gods above, you scared the daylights out of me.” She punched him again, a little gentler. It didn’t hurt; he rubbed his arm anyway.

“Again, I’m so sorry about that. To be fair, I thought you were a burglar.”

Her face was incredulous. “Says the man who broke in, again!”

“...That’s a fair point.”

She waved her hands, silvery energy flitting about her fingers and dark purple curtains swept across the windows. Ah, it would be inconvenient if a nosy neighbor spotted the renowned Asra’s apprentice and the infamous count-killer together, in her own house, no less.

“How did you even get in here?” Ithyra asked. “I warded the doors after the last time you broke in. And the time before that!” She gave him a very serious look. “You, sir, have a serious problem.”

“So I’ve been told.” He gave her a charming grin.

Ithyra rolled her eyes. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“What question?” The look she gave him was absolutely withering. “Oh, that question.” He pulled the small silver key out of his pocket and handed it over. She held the key up to the light, then fished through her pocket for a ring of keys. She flipped through each key, until she found a match.

“Do I want to know why you have a key to my back door?”

Julian’s smile faltered. “You don’t-. Well, well,” He cut himself off and forced himself to smile again. “Let’s just say I had to make a couple house calls. After hours.”

Ithyra tilted her head at him; confusion flickered through her eyes. She pocketed the keys.

“You’ve very lucky, you know,” she said conversationally.

“Oh?”

“I was about to fry your foolish head when I recognized your voice.” She wiggled her fingers and tiny sparks jumped through the air.

Julian remembered the shock that traveled through his chest and felt a small thrill. He waggled his eyebrows at her. “I didn’t realize I’d made such an impression on you.”

This time, she rolled her eyes all the way around.

“You used the exact same line the last time you tried to assault me in my own home.” Ithyra brushed past him, little ball of light following her.

“Ah.” Julian felt a teensy bit guilty. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

Ithyra snorted and shook her head, “Not at all. I’m a bit tougher than I look.” She looked around the room, hands on her hips, frowning at the furniture.

He could believe that.

“So, what brings you here this fine night,” he changed the subject.

“Uh, I live here. Unlike some people.”

Julian flushed. “Right. I thought Nadia was keeping you close, though.”

“Of course she is.” As someone becoming very familiar with it, Julian would definitely classify Ithyra’s current expression as ‘annoyed’. “The Countess likes to keep all her eggs in one basket.” Her eyes kept scanning the floor then lit up. “Ah, there they are.”

Julian followed her gaze and saw two small books laying on the floor a few feet away from him. One was flipped open, face down, while the other was skewed to the side. Oh, that must have been what Ithyra dropped when he’d attacked her.

Ithyra walked over and picked the skewed book up, grimacing as she brushed dust off the cover. Julian picked up the other one, flipping it over in his hand. His eye skimmed the left page.

_“3 rd day of the month of Harvest. _

_A man came in for a reading today. An artist, looking for love, of course._

_Pulled The Hermit, inverted. Not a good sign, to be honest._

_I found a little puzzle box at the marketplace for six silvers. I was fiddling with it while I worked on inventory that afternoon, not really thinking about it. I looked down and realized I’d solved it, but I couldn’t figure out how I’d done it or how to put it back together again. Frustrating._

_Asra left this morning. That’s the third time in as two months. I swear to the gods, he’s avoiding me. What I’d give to know what’s going on in that head of his._

_He said he’d be back in a few days. We’ll see.”_

Ithyra cleared her throat pointedly. Julian had the grace to look embarrassed as he handed it over. She took it and snapped it closed, tucking it under her arm to join its sister. She gave him a reproachful look.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.” Julian forced himself to meet her steel-colored eyes.

Ithyra held his gaze for a long moment before nodding. “You’re forgiven.”

She walked back around the counter and carefully placed the books in the leather satchel. Julian followed and braced his elbows on the counter.

“How long are you planning on staying here,” she asked suddenly. Julian started at the question.

“Trying to throw me out already? And here I thought you liked me.”

Ithyra laughed at that, a high clear sound. “If I didn’t like you a bit, I’d have shocked you again just for the hell of it.”

“Aww, so you do like me?” Julian grinned widely.

Ithyra snorted again, and pinched her fingers close together. “I said a bit, Julian. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” Despite her words, her cheeks pinked.

Julian laughed then realized: “You called me Julian.”

“That’s your name, isn’t it?” Ithyra raised an eyebrow at him.

“So it is.”

Satisfied, Ithyra slung the bag over her shoulder.

“Are you leaving?” Julian felt a concerning amount of dismay at the idea.

Ithyra nodded. “As you said, Nadia wants me close by. If I leave now, I might be able to sleep for an hour or so before she summons me again.” She started for the door. Julian stayed where he was, trying to not look as disappointed as he felt.

“You can stay as long as you like, so long as you don’t break anything,” she said as she opened the door.

Julian looked shocked before recovering. “Aren’t you worried about leaving the shop so vulnerable? I might steal something. Or someone who realizes that both of the magicians are gone might.”

Ithyra turned towards him and tilted her head. “I think if you were going to steal something, you’d have done it by now. I’m not worried. As for anyone else,” she paused in thought for a moment. Then Ithyra smiled a broad, charming smile.

He thought it might be the first time he’d ever seen her do so and it made his heart thump dangerously.

“Here.” Ithyra tossed something at him. He caught it instinctively. “You can lock up when you leave.”

With that, she shut the door. He heard the sound of locks turning over and she was gone. He was alone with a gently floating ball of light. Julian opened his hand.

Inside was a small silver key.

Oh, he was in so much trouble.

 


	2. Coffee Beans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julian is bemused by his lover and Asra is a little shit.

Julian woke alone in a dark room. For an awful moment, he thought he was back in the castle dungeon. But, no he couldn’t hear any screams or moans outside and he was lying on a soft, if a bit too short, bed, not a cold, stone floor. He rolled over to find the bed empty, but faintly warm. 

Ithyra.

He stretched out, long limbs dangling off the edge of the bed. Ithyra’s patchwork quilt twisted and tightened around his legs as he tried to sit up the way Faust liked to sometimes. He scowled and kicked the blanket off. He threw his feet over the side, rubbing his eye with the heel of his palm. 

He’d actually managed to sleep for a few hours this time. He didn’t know how she did it, but Ithyra’s presence was so soothing. Even when he couldn’t sleep at all, just being near her bled the stress from his body like draining an infection.

There was a faint clatter from the next room. Julian started, then rolled up to his feet. He grabbed his gloves off the bedside table and crept out of Ithyra’s bedroom as he pulled them on. Soft light spilled out of the kitchen into the hallway. He wandered towards it, deliberately not looking at the other bedroom door. 

He peered through the doorway. A few lanterns dimly lit the kitchen. It was a small, but well-loved space, always smelling faintly of herbs and spices. A copper kettle sat on the table, next to two heavy mugs and a book lying open with lines of black letters scribbled haphazardly across the yellowed pages. 

Ithyra, still wearing her simple night-clothes, stood on a small stool and was searching through the cupboards next to the stove. She could just barely reach, even standing on her tip-toes. She looked over her shoulder at him and gave him a sleepy smile, “Hey.”

“Hey,” he smiled back. “What are you doing up?” 

“I could ask you the same question,” she teased. Ithrya turned back to the jars in front of her, turning them so she could read the labels, then carefully moving them aside. “Did I wake you up?” 

“No, I don’t think so,” Julian rubbed the back of his neck. “I just...woke up.”

“Hmm, same here.” Unlike Julian’s insomnia, which left him exhausted and half-mad at times, Ithyra seemed to honestly run on less sleep than the average person. She’d told him once when he was fretting over keeping her up that it was very rare that she slept through the whole night anyway.

Ithyra turned back to whatever she was doing, hands on the edge of the shelf to pull herself up a bit more. Julian leaned against the door frame, content to watch her for a bit. She shut the cupboard door with a disgusted sigh. She leaned over to the next shelf, balanced precariously on the little stool. She clicked her tongue in annoyance. “I know it’s here somewhere...” 

Ithrya leaned farther. The stool wiggled just a bit. 

Julian was by her side in an instant, casually putting a hand on her waist. She twitched in surprise, but didn’t shift away. He hoped the gesture came across as affectionate rather than overprotective. She’d reminded him on more than one occasion that she didn’t need protecting. Julian brushed his lips against her cheek, a gentle apology for startling her. Even standing on a stool, she was at least half a foot shorter than he was. Grinning mischievously, he set his chin on top of her head, delighting in the protesting scoff she made, and examined the shelf with a critical eye. 

“What are you looking for?”

Ithyra sighed and leaned back against him. He hummed, a hand running down her side before settling on her waist opposite the other one. “Well, I was going to make some tea but I remembered that Asra had a stash of coffee beans in here somewhere,” she said. “Only now, I can’t seem to find them.”

“I didn’t know you drank coffee,” he said absent-mindedly, stroking her sides with his thumbs. 

“Oh, I don’t. Never got a taste for it.” She turned her head up to press a kiss against his jaw. His heart and breath stuttered painfully as she continued. “But you seem to like it, and since I was up anyway,” she gestured at the shelves around her, “here I am.”

Julian didn’t say anything back for a minute, a rush of adoration knocking him breathless in its desperation. He wrapped his long arms around her tightly and kissed the top of her head. When he trusted himself to speak, he murmured, “You’re sweet,” into her hair.

Ithyra scoffed. “Flatterer.” The embarrassed flush that painted her cheeks took any teeth out of her words. He was delighted that he’d managed to fluster her for once. 

“Hmm, I’ve been accused of that before.” He kissed her head again, then he kissed her temple and then the fine blush across her cheekbones. Her face turned to catch his lips but he retreated to his full height, grinning smugly. She made a sound crossed between a whine and a growl when she couldn’t reach him.

“Something wrong, sweetheart,” he teased, raising an eyebrow at her. Ithyra turned to face him, eyes stern even as her lips twitched. She wound her arms around his neck, threading her fingers into his hair. She tried to bring him back down to her, but he held strong against her, grin widening at her frustrated expression. Then he groaned when she tightened her grip on his hair, the sensation going straight to his belly. 

“You’re impossible,” she chided as she knotted her fingers through his hair. “What on earth am I going to do with you?” Her brown eyes were filled with laughter, warm smile spread across her lips now. Ithyra’s arms pulled at him in earnest and Julian didn’t resist, teasing response on his tongue as he bent to kiss her.

“Well, you two are certainly up early,” a forcefully cheerful voice came from right behind Julian, startling the daylights out of both of them. Ithyra even jumped a bit, eyes wide, yanking Julian’s head back instinctively. Sharp, delicious pain burned through his scalp and he bit his lip to smother a low moan. Or he tried anyway. Asra bustled around them, seemingly oblivious to the scene he’d just interrupted. He peered at the book on the table, settling into a chair. “Mmm, spiced needleroot tea. Just the thing to put a spring in your step.”

Ithyra recovered, dropping her head against his chest with a huff. She released her death-grip on Julian’s hair, and he bit down harder as a disappointed whine tried to climb up his throat. 

Damn Asra straight to the pits of Hell. By the sounds of the words Ithyra was muttering against his sternum, she shared his sentiment. 

“Good morning, Asra,” Julian said through gritted teeth. 

“Good morning, Julian.” Asra smiled at him innocently, eyes dancing with mischief. “I’m glad to see you so well-rested.”

Ithyra snorted, then lifted her head off Julian’s chest. “Asra, do you still have coffee beans hidden in here somewhere?” One of her arms dropped down to rest on top of Julian’s, the other she kept curled around his neck, hand resting in his red curls. 

Asra tilted his head, smile widening on his face. “Well, let me think,” he rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Where did I put those?” He continued to ponder for a few long moments. Julian silently prayed for the restraint to not strangle the magician in his own kitchen. Ithyra’s fingers started stroking his hair rhythmically, soothingly. 

Then Asra snapped his fingers. “Ah, I remember now.” He pointed out a particularly high cupboard above the stove. “They’re in a box towards the back of that. Julian, would you mind? If I ask Ithyra, she might climb up on the stove and upset the salamander, which is not conducive for warm beverages.” 

Julian had half a mind to tell Asra where he could shove his warm beverage, but he detached himself from Ithyra reluctantly. She released him with an unhappy sigh, stepping off the stool and crossing her arms. She smiled at him ruefully.   
“You’d better get them, since my methods are apparently too offensive and Asra’s are nonexistant.” Asra sputtered a protest and Julian smiled, a soft laugh escaping him. Still, he had to force himself to turn away from her and go look for the damn coffee beans. Even that small distance was almost unbearable to him after being so close to her. He felt like a nail being dragged away from a magnet. His fingers ached with the need to hold her again. 

He opened the cabinet Asra indicated and started sorting through the various goods stacked haphazardly within.

“And how are you this fine morning, my lovely apprentice,” he heard Asra ask Ithyra. Her response was a long string of words in a foreign language that were probably unfriendly. 

“Now, that’s hardly fair,” Asra complained. “You know I don’t speak Pylian.” Julian paused in his search for a moment. 

“Ah, my apologies, Master.” Ithyra had a way of twisting that title into a dagger. “I was merely saying how relieved I am that you’ve miraculously recovered from your strange but persistent illness that prevents you from waking before noon. Truly, I thought I’d never witness such a wonder.” 

Julian coughed to hide his laughter. Finally, he managed to unearth a chestnut box from the cupboard. He snapped the lid back and the rich smell of coffee beans filled his nose. He hummed in delight. 

“Found them,” he said, turning around to face the other two. Asra was still sprawled in his chair, smiling faintly while Ithyra gave him a reproachful glare. How had his life gotten this bizarre, Julian wondered briefly. Here he was, dangerously head over heels for a sharp-tongued magician’s apprentice who lived with a person Julian had once loved and hated with every fiber of his being. 

“Oh good,” Asra’s eyes lit up and, damn it, if that still didn’t make his stomach flip. “Maybe the two of you are already wide awake, but I, for one, could use the pick-me-up.” He yawned theatrically while Ithyra rolled her eyes to the ceiling. 

It was a strange life Julian was living, but there was nowhere else he’d rather be.


End file.
